It’s difficult for me to be vulnerable. Feelings of doubt, shame and lack of self-worth often make me feel like I’ve done something wrong when I am able to be vulnerable. But I need to be vulnerable in order to have Real Human Experiences…

Sometimes I have interactions with people and I’m able to much be much more of my authentic self than other times. Sometimes I can see other people being brave enough to share more than they usually would with me. Those moments kindle some hope in me for humanity. I get to see other people with doubts, other people on their journey and other people who are striving to be more than a set of neuronal impulses firing away unexamined. I think of these as Real Human Experiences.

A lot of life, god.. the vast majority of it, is spent showing our teeth to each other. We smile to reassure, we smile to defer, we smile to reinforce our own need to feel okay for a moment. There’s nothing wrong with smiling. It does great things for our brain, little trickles of serotonin. I probably don’t smile enough, if you get right down to it. I think the thing that catches my attention about it is the way it sometimes feels like a veneer. A bit of armor you slip on to make it through the moment.

Smiling’s great, and can be one of the ways that we experience Real Human Experience together. Sliding on armor so we can dull the possible pain of honest interactions, not so much. 

When my smile starts from deep inside me, I am connected. I’m being present in this moment and not spinning out on future worry or gnashing my teeth over past actions. It’s a projection of an inner truth, where sometimes, even if only for a moment, I have a spike of truth anchoring my inner world to my outer world. For that moment, I’m not experiencing doubt or insecurity, I just am.

Becoming aware of Being is a great way to stop Just Being, though. I engage my analyst and it observes me and critiques my actions. It suggests that the person that I shared honestly with will think less of me. It reminds me that I grew up poor and that I didn’t finish college and that I probably don’t belong in this room with these impressive people. It speculates about how they’re going to think of me later and it really doesn’t ever have anything good to say about it.

That often happens in a jolt. I was having a Real Human Experience and then I became aware that I was having one and suddenly I’m not anymore. It’s like a kid who’s just gotten their bike going for the first time and they have that feeling of elation because they’re doing it and it’s really happening after all that effort and then they think about the fact that they’re doing it and the next thing they know, they’re summersaulting over their handlebars only to land on their butt on the ground.

How long can I stay on, before I fall off? The more I ride, the less I have to think about it and therefore the less likely I am to fall off. I’m just riding, not thinking about riding or having sudden doubts about my ability to ride.

Having Real Human Experiences must be similar, right? If I have more of them, I’m bound to get better at Just Being and not thinking about Being, which in turn jerks me out of Being.

That also sounds scary though. I’m not always honest with myself. If I’m not honest with myself, I can’t be honest with others about those things. If I can’t be honest with someone, I can’t have a Real Human Experience. Shame says that I can’t share that fear or that failure. Insecurity says I can’t admit that weakness. Vanity says I can’t show up like that because this isn’t part of how I want people to see me.

But nothing… I mean, nothing I have ever experienced matches the feeling of being open enough to be vulnerable and honest with another person who has also been brave enough to be open with me. The heart sings to feel freedom in simple words. I see you. I see your pain. I see your hope. You see mine as well, because I’ve been honest. As a result, we shared this Experience as Real Humans who didn’t don armor. We smiled at each other because of simple love for another human.

I’m going to try to be more brave, try to be more honest. I’m going to try to have more Real Human Experiences.

It’s difficult for me to be vulnerable. Feelings of doubt, shame and lack of self-worth often make me feel like I’ve done something wrong when I am able to be vulnerable. But I need to be vulnerable in order to have Real Human Experiences…

Sometimes I have interactions with people and I’m able to much be much more of my authentic self than other times. Sometimes I can see other people being brave enough to share more than they usually would with me. Those moments kindle some hope in me for humanity. I get to see other people with doubts, other people on their journey and other people who are striving to be more than a set of neuronal impulses firing away unexamined. I think of these as Real Human Experiences.

A lot of life, god.. the vast majority of it, is spent showing our teeth to each other. We smile to reassure, we smile to defer, we smile to reinforce our own need to feel okay for a moment. There’s nothing wrong with smiling. It does great things for our brain, little trickles of serotonin. I probably don’t smile enough, if you get right down to it. I think the thing that catches my attention about it is the way it sometimes feels like a veneer. A bit of armor you slip on to make it through the moment.

Smiling’s great, and can be one of the ways that we experience Real Human Experience together. Sliding on armor so we can dull the possible pain of honest interactions, not so much. 

When my smile starts from deep inside me, I am connected. I’m being present in this moment and not spinning out on future worry or gnashing my teeth over past actions. It’s a projection of an inner truth, where sometimes, even if only for a moment, I have a spike of truth anchoring my inner world to my outer world. For that moment, I’m not experiencing doubt or insecurity, I just am.

Becoming aware of Being is a great way to stop Just Being, though. I engage my analyst and it observes me and critiques my actions. It suggests that the person that I shared honestly with will think less of me. It reminds me that I grew up poor and that I didn’t finish college and that I probably don’t belong in this room with these impressive people. It speculates about how they’re going to think of me later and it really doesn’t ever have anything good to say about it.

That often happens in a jolt. I was having a Real Human Experience and then I became aware that I was having one and suddenly I’m not anymore. It’s like a kid who’s just gotten their bike going for the first time and they have that feeling of elation because they’re doing it and it’s really happening after all that effort and then they think about the fact that they’re doing it and the next thing they know, they’re summersaulting over their handlebars only to land on their butt on the ground.

How long can I stay on, before I fall off? The more I ride, the less I have to think about it and therefore the less likely I am to fall off. I’m just riding, not thinking about riding or having sudden doubts about my ability to ride.

Having Real Human Experiences must be similar, right? If I have more of them, I’m bound to get better at Just Being and not thinking about Being, which in turn jerks me out of Being.

That also sounds scary though. I’m not always honest with myself. If I’m not honest with myself, I can’t be honest with others about those things. If I can’t be honest with someone, I can’t have a Real Human Experience. Shame says that I can’t share that fear or that failure. Insecurity says I can’t admit that weakness. Vanity says I can’t show up like that because this isn’t part of how I want people to see me.

But nothing… I mean, nothing I have ever experienced matches the feeling of being open enough to be vulnerable and honest with another person who has also been brave enough to be open with me. The heart sings to feel freedom in simple words. I see you. I see your pain. I see your hope. You see mine as well, because I’ve been honest. As a result, we shared this Experience as Real Humans who didn’t don armor. We smiled at each other because of simple love for another human.

I’m going to try to be more brave, try to be more honest. I’m going to try to have more Real Human Experiences.